The Wistful Letter
The gas lamps in the corridor of Blackwood Asylum hissed and popped, casting long, trembling shadows against the peeling wallpaper as Inspector Elias Thorne marched toward the office of Dr. Silas Vane. He was a man of forty-five, his uniform pressed to a razor’s edge, his face a map of rigid lines that had not softened in three years, the time his younger brother Arthur had been locked within...
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